Reflection
by lfleurdelys
Summary: AU. In his cubicle, Darcy muses over a certain coworker. One-shot.


**Reflection**  
By lfleurdelys

--

The faint sound of high heels crushing the carpeted floor of the office was heard and the pounding of his heart started inevitably. He did not know how he had learned to recognize her confident approach, but it never failed. A few seconds passed before her beautiful presence enlightened his small cubicle.

"Good morning Darcy. What are you up to today?"

He stared at her, mesmerized by the teasing fire in her sparkling green eyes. Her delicate eyebrow cocked at his obvious watch and he fumbled with words as he responded to her greeting. After another brilliant smile, she departed, her lavender perfume lingering subtly in the air.

Once more in the solitary sanctuary of his workspace, he shook his head quietly. A small smile tucked at the corners of his mouth as he reflected on their acquaintance. Months ago, he had walked to the training room for the first time, mildly exasperated by the heavy traffic he encountered on his first day of work. He sat down at the first table available without a second glance at the conference room. A delicate hand on his right shoulder jerked him from his inattention and he looked up at the perpetrator of his annoyance. A beautiful face framed by long chestnut locks greeted him cheerfully and asked for the seat next to him. He nodded, dumbfounded by the doe eyed creature, his frustration suddenly gone. From that day on, she became the bright light to his otherwise mundane life and she never failed to bring a ray of happiness to the coldness of his surroundings. The loud and incessant ring of his phone distracted him and he regretfully left his musings for another time as he went back to work.

---

The hands of the contemporary clock on his desk soon arrived to twelve and his angel approached him again and invited him to lunch with their fellow coworkers. He nodded and told her he would join them in a few minutes. Closing the document on his laptop, he took a deep breath and followed her musical laughter as she shared an amusing anecdote to an avid and captivated audience. On their walk to the bistro around the corner of the financial district, he thought back of the earlier discussion that took place and his admiration grew for her. He sincerely envied her ability to engage people into conversation and her social skills were lacking hypocrisy and pretention. She was genuine in her concerns and care of others. He himself had been on the receiving end of her attentions when he had stayed past a certain hour at work to complete a budget under deadline. With her warm aura, she possessed the uncanny but natural ability to attract men and women from every situation and experience in life. She truly inspired him to become a better man.

"Darcy, how's the work coming along?" she suddenly asked him, nudging him with her shoulder as she approached him and placed herself firmly on his left.

"It's going fairly well," he replied, his passionate gaze no longer focused on the road before him, "How have you been Elizabeth?"

"You're still the only one who calls me Elizabeth, do you know that?"

He blushed slightly at her words but he could not find a proper reason to explain this particular attention. He had cherished her name since the first time he saw her scribble it down in curvy and elegant letters in the white sheets of her notebook.

"It's all good, I actually like it," she whispered to him, leaning in as if to share a secret. "Won't you tell me your real name now?"

He laughed slightly at her continuing attempt. He was fiercely private about the first name his parents had chosen to give him at birth. As he grew older, he had made the decision to go exclusively by a nickname and no one until Elizabeth had bothered to ask him.

"You're avoiding my question Darcy!" she exclaimed with a coy smile, "and I will continue to call you by your family name until you decide to share your secret with me."

He certainly could not deny it. His heart was bursting with joy at her banter and her comforting presence at his sides. His happiness was indescribable and he only wished that their conversation could go on timelessly.

How he loved her!

--

That evening, he walked home, mutely berating himself for the impossibility of the match. She was beautiful, intelligent, witty and genuine. He was a silent and uninteresting man who was uncomfortable in the presence of strangers. He had nothing to offer her but his heart and his undying devotion. Yet, he would love her with passion and dedicate his life to her happiness. He would love her like no others and care for her the way she deserved to be. If only.

Their friendship was tangible and he made no efforts to increase the socializing once they left the office. His fear nearly always paralyzed him as he prepared to issue an invitation to dinner or drinks after work. He feared her rejection but most importantly, he could not bring himself to give up the dream if her response was indeed negative. He knew though that his love was growing to irrational proportions and he needed to take the first step to his most meaningful request.

--

On a Monday morning, on a cold rainy day, he finally gathered such courage. The sky was overcast and gray clouds were persistently looming over the city, unwilling to let the sun escape its confines. He had angrily shaken his large umbrella in the reception area of their office, attempting to get rid of the unpleasant reminder of the dreadful weather, when she had walked in. Her hair was swept up in a messy and wet chignon, raindrops still scattered over her beautiful features, clothes soaked by the surprised pour, and she simply laughed, ignoring her own discomfort. He smiled at her outlook and he could not help but fall deeper for her. It was at this beautiful sight that he made his decision. He approached her, determined to let the words pour out of his heart.

"Elizabeth, would you go out on a date with me?"

She turned to face him and offered him a most dazzling smile.

"I would love to."

--


End file.
